Learning to Love Sherlock Holmes
by steelgray
Summary: A oneshot series all about SherlockxJohn. Can be read as Johnlock or just friends. Slight College AU.
1. Meeting Sherlock

**So, this is my new, under 300 words each chapter, drabble-ish series for Sherlock. This is set in college, and I'll accept any prompts you all gift me with. I'm a little on the fence about continuing it, so Please review, follow, favorite, etc. It's a great confidence booster. Enjoy!**

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"Who are you?"

Startled by the detective's voice, the short man answers, "John. John Watson."

"What do you want?"

"I," John is baffled by this man's abrupt manner, "Mike Stamford, you know Mike, wanted me to talk to you, so, here I am."

The taller man finally looks up from his microscope and down at him, "Why?"

"Didn't he tell you? I'm supposed to be your roommate."

"I must have deleted it," Sherlock shrugged.

"Excuse me, but deleted it?" John doesn't know how he's going to ever understand, much less put up with, this other boy for the next semester.

"I hate repeating myself," Sherlock merely grumbles.

"Would you like to get a cup of coffee?"

"Boring." Is his response.

Shaking his head, John leaves, wondering what had just transpired.

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**So...?**

**xoxo, Brenda**


	2. John Wants Help, Gets Acid

**All text conversation: where John asks for help and Sherlock ends up revealing more than he planned. Note that these drabbles are not in chronological order. Enjoy!**

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"Did you get the notes for Calculus?"

"Didn't need them."

"Could you help me with the homework, then?"

"What I meant was, I didn't need them, because it's all in my head and I didn't do the homework."

"Look, it's fine, I understand that you're probably busy. I'll ask Greg, he should know."

"Perhaps. I've got to finish my experiment."

"On what, may I ask?"

"You can ask, you just may not get an answer."

"Okay. Bye, Sherlock."

"It's a compound."

"Sorry?"

"I'm studying a compound. How it reacts with human skin."

"Is it dangerous?"

"Little bit."

"Is that...acid?"

"Some."

"Alright, I'm just going...to go. Don't blow the place up, please."

"Try not to."

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**I love how John is just like, "okay, Sherlock, do your thing" and Sherlock is beginning to warm up to John. Follow/Favorite/Review or Prompt if you liked! Thanks so much everyone!**

**Brenda xoxo**


	3. I Don't Have Friends

John should've known that trying to get to know Sherlock Holmes was pointless. The words from earlier still ring in over-sensitive feeling ears.

"I don't have friends."

He should've known. It was all there, right in front of his face-the caustic nature, the genius; the pure logic that Sherlock possessed; unaltered and with no filter between his brain and his mouth. The arrogance and dramatics simply added to what Sherlock himself had already established-that he really needed no one and simply didn't care if others might've wanted to need him.

The pure brilliance of the man that shared 221B, Baker Hall, with him was what had drawn him in like a moth to a flame in the first place. The danger, the cases, the chase! This was the part of the reason that John had stayed on with Sherlock, even after he got a part-time job and could afford to move out of the dorm. More so, it'd been because he'd wanted a friend.

Stamford's words washed over him yet again.

"He's a bit difficult, been through a few roommates, but I'm sure you can handle it fine, John."

The door to the room creaked open, slowly, a far cry from the normal ostentatious bang that usually accompanied Sherlock Holmes.

"John?" The voice is uncharacteristically soft, and John ignores the urge to look up.

Ignore. Ignore. Ignore.

"I...I don't have friends. I've just got the one."

And he raises his head.

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**Enjoy, my darlings! Drop me a review if you liked the execution, have an idea, etc! Follows and favorites are also very much appreciated!**

**Brenda xoxo**


	4. When I Dream at Night

Snapshots.

Snapshots. Pictures. Glimpses of John. His John.

The faithful, loyal companion he'd left behind, the one he'd left behind because being friends with Sherlock Holmes was dangerous. The only one he'd found a true friend in was gone; getting married to some woman-someone else who would take the short man away.

John Hamish Watson. Ex army doctor.

"Sherlock."

"Bachelor John Watson. What do they mean by that?"

"Go after her and apologize!"

"Sod this."

Little pieces of his mind palace, locked behind many sets of doors, only able to emerge in subconscious; unwilled, unwanted.

Oh, John, he thought, I miss you.

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**Angsty Sherlock-the poor baby. Reviews would make him feel better..**


	5. When You Sing to Me

**Enjoy, dears!**

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Sherlock's singing is the best thing that John's ever heard.

It wasn't when they told him he'd been accepted at the academy.

It wasn't when they told him that he was going to live.

It wasn't even when Sherlock told him that he was going to be okay at the Pool.

It was Sherlock's smooth, rumbling baritone, silky and clear, the best on the cold, rainy nights in their London flat, after awakening from nightmares.

The sound of those low notes, drowning out the beating of the rain on the rooftop, coming from downstairs as his flatmate stayed awake thinking, calmed John.

The entire situation was as far removed from the hostel as he could imagine. No answering screams of pain and memories answered him when he awoke, silent tears streaming unbidden down his face.

** Instead there came the lonely melodies that Sherlock wove with his voice, and John couldn't thank whatever higher power there was enough for his flatmate. **

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**As much as I'd like to, I don't write without proper payment *pouts*, leave me a review, follow, or favorite, please?**

**Brenda xoxo**


	6. When Somebody Loves You

**Special thanks to MarMoo.12 (You'll like these next couple of chapters!) guest, and peanut14, who are both brilliant for reviewing! Thanks!**

**Enjoy this one! It's pure fluff. The first few lines (and title) are from Alan Jackson's song When Somebody Loves You, and, naturally, I do not own it.**

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When somebody loves you

There's nothing you can't do

When somebody loves you

The way I love you

It was nights like these, where they were cuddled up in each other, that were perfect.

Sherlock himself would admit that this wasn't a horrible alternative from cases, but that he did still like cases more.

John knew enough not to be offended.

So it was here, in perfect solitude, with the neighbors all asleep or away that was wonderful.

The lights were dimmed down, the lamps casting an almost smoky, yellowy light on the pair lying on the couch, Sherlock's long frame enveloping John's smaller one, both breathing in synchronization, Sherlock's hand stroking lazily up and down John's leg.

The atmosphere remained unbroken by words, unneeded in this perfect silence, the lights from the streets lighting up the room once in awhile, like the glare a television gave off.

**** When they fall asleep, entwined, is the only time that the city seems to quiet for the night. ****

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**So, that's that! Review/favorite/follow if you enjoyed!**

**Thanks for reading this fic!**

**Brenda xoxo**


	7. I Could Be Your (Boy)Friend

**This one's slightly too long, but I don't think you'll mind, I thought it was a rather pretty confrontation. I had good material to work with :)**

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Sherlock had hated every one of John's girlfriends, which said a lot, because his flatmate brought all kinds of girls around.

He'd never bothered to be civil to them, which worked out for the detective most times anyway; as they didn't last very long.

So they danced around one another; John with his dates, Sherlock with his barbed complaints and sarcastic comments.

"Out with another girl?" said Sherlock one of these times, "Shame. There was a case in the heart of London tonight, not that you care."

"Sherlock, I'm always there!"

"No," replied the detective bitingly, "No, you aren't. And if it isn't Sarah or Belinda or some girl named Amy, it's someone else. And guess what? They're all gone within two weeks! And..." Sherlock shook his head, "Nevermind."

John paused, realization setting in. "And you're still here, aren't you?" said John softly, pausing at the door of 221B.

"You know what?" Sherlock smiled at his short flatmate, one of the fake smiles that it broke John's heart to see; the kind that had never been directed at him before, "Just go. I can handle the case."

"This isn't about the case, is it Sherlock?"

"I-"

"This is about you. And this is about me. And I finally think I understand."

"John-"

"Shh." John hushed him, approaching the taller man and pressing a finger to his lips to quiet him, rewarded by the fluttering of the other's eyelashes and loosening of his muscles, like one almost asleep. "I understand."

And then John sealed that understanding with a soft kiss, a barely-there butterfly-esque kiss, like all perfect first kisses were.

"John."

"Mm?"

"I-" Sherlock's voice goes husky as he leans in to reciprocate his flatmate's kiss, "I understand."

"Took you long enough."

The soft laughs as they close the door to 221B are music to Mrs. Hudson's ears.

** She was so proud of her boys. **

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**Hope you guys enjoyed this one, review please?**

**Brenda xoxo**


	8. Valentine's Day Domestic

**I know it's not Valentine's Day, but I wanted cookies. So, Valentine's Day!**

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John surprises him not by coming home empty-handed from a chip and pin machine argument, but with cookie batter and frosting.

"Opening a bakery, John?" the detective asks.

"Deduced it, have you?" is John's joking reply.

"You want me to make cookies? Why?"

John faces him, donning an apron over his favorite sweater and smiles, knowing Sherlock has no clue, "Do you know what day it is today?"

Sherlock pretends to give it consideration. "It's not your birthday again, is it?"

"Nope."

"Is it mine?"

"_Sherlock_."

"You just want to hear me say that I don't know," Sherlock begins pouting.

John kisses the pout off of the good detective's face with a smile, "It's Valentine's Day!"

Sherlock, whose cheeks are tinged red with a kiss-induced blush, is not impressed. "So we're making cookies?"

"Instead of watching crap telly because you have no cases? Yes."

Sherlock scowls, "I can't make cookies."

"You can, there are instructions on the box."

Sherlock shakes his head in a definite 'no'. "There'll be cases soon enough. Love is a strong motivator."

"Can it motivate you?"

"Nope."

It's an obvious lie, and John smiles again, "Alright, Sherlock. But you don't get any of them when I'm done making them."

In the end, Sherlock got his cookies. And ate them too.

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**Because we know Sherlock loves his sweets. If you want a cookie, review please?**

**Brenda xoxo**


	9. I Got the Milk

**So, here's the new chapter. It's more sugary than marshmallows. Enjoy!**

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Sherlock hated it when John was mad at him. And he knew that it was usually his fault. Even though it was usually for stupid things, like him forgetting John at a crime scene. And honestly, it was one time.

Luckily for Sherlock, when John was angry (which was often), he'd learned just what to do.

First, he knew to sense it. Sherlock didn't always know what he'd done wrong, but when it was something 'a bit not good', he could tell. John would either shout or leave. Or he would get eerily quiet. Or he would smile.

The smiling was the worst. John's angry smiles were horrible.

Then, he knew to get out and let John cool down, and, hopefully, be less angry and just a little annoyed instead, if he was lucky.

And if he was very fortunate, Sherlock had remembered his wallet, and went to the nearby Tesco.

Not for flowers or balloons and such, mind you. No, when John was very angry and Sherlock wanted to say sorry, he bought dairy. More specifically, the milk.

And if it was the wrong kind and almost expired, who was John to do anything other than smile and accept Sherlock's apology?

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**Sweet, like them all, it seems. :) Prompts are welcome, really. Some ideas would be great. Thanks!**

**xoxo Brenda**


	10. The One Time John Needed Sherlock

**Taken from the statement, "I don't need no man to be happy!"**

**So sorry about the late update, school. But now it's summer!**

**Enjoy, I liked the thought that John may've needed Sherlock's help at some point, but not in the sense that you'd expect.**

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John was a strong man, who didn't need any, well, man, because he could very well take care of himself, thank you very much!

(He did consider, however, that he may have been overcompensating for his shortness, but didn't let the thought linger. Nope. Not a second.)

That's what he told himself, anyways, as he and Sherlock were heading through airport security, readying to get on a plane.

John, however, had never been through domestic airport security (only military planes, which were very different) and was shifting somewhat nervously, while Sherlock looked bored as was usual.

They approached the scanners quickly, without issue, when a man, dressed in a security uniform, began to talk to John in very harsh, very fast German, a scowl etched on his face.

"Excuse me?" John began, in English, "I don't understand…"

The man continued speaking, moving closer menacingly. John, while not scared, (of course not!) wasn't sure why he was being addressed in German, of all languages, as he wasn't even going to Germany, or any country near it.

"Sherlock?" John manages in a very small voice, reaching out to grasp the consulting detective's hand.

Sensing his nervousness, Sherlock turns, surprised to see his partner being, dare he say accosted, by the security guard.

By quick deduction, he figures out the problem, and, speaking in soft German, says, "This is the wrong man."

Standing aside, John is very grateful to Sherlock's language skills, and was glad that if he ever needed a 'man', he had one.

Sherlock.

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**Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought?**


	11. Detectives and Soldiers

**Inspired by Cowboys and Angels by Dustin Lynch (Which does not belong to me)**

**Enjoy! So sorry for the slow update, but here it is!**

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'"There's a want and there's a need

There's a history between

Girls like her and guys like me

Cowboys and angels"'

There was also such a link between detectives and soldiers. Namely, John Watson and Sherlock Holmes.

John had been fixing sandwiches for lunch that day, kettle on, everything strangely quiet and domestic.

Sherlock had been in the living room, quiet and watching the news, scoffing every so often.

"What's on?" John had called, poking his head into the living room, "Anything interesting?"

"Just as boring and imbecilic as ever," the other man answered, typical Sherlock style.

It was everyday interactions like these that really told the story that was them.

It was John forcing Sherlock to eat, even if it was just the bacon off of his own sandwich.

It was Sherlock putting obscene amounts of sugar into John's tea when he made it for him, despite John's protests that he liked it better bitter.

It was John's nightmares and Sherlock soothing him without complaint at three o'clock in the morning.

It was Sherlock needing John at a crime scene more that he'd ever admit.

Cowboys and angels, detectives and soldiers.

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**Never enough fluff. **

**Review? *begging face***

**xoxo Brenda**


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